Comfort
by ironheartwriter
Summary: Mike isn't the only one plagued by nightmares.


He should be sleeping. He knew he should be sleeping. She had gone to sleep hours ago already, and yet he _still_ couldn't sleep. Mike Weston sighed softly as he once again rolled over onto his other side. He had something he could take to help him sleep, but he _loathed_ taking it. Taking pills to help him sleep, aside from the fact that they made him drowsy for hours after he woke up, made him feel like he was admitting Lily had won somehow, and that was a feeling he hated.

Turning over had meant that he was facing her. The one woman who seemed to be able to keep him from completely losing what was left of his mind, Max Hardy. He had never meant to fall in love with her, but from the day he walked into her office, he'd had an attachment to her. She had been the one to sneak her way into his heart, the one he hadn't been expecting. He didn't think he could get her out of his heart, as if he would ever want to.

In the silence of the night, he could hear her slow, even breathing. She slept facing him, she always did, as though even in her sleep she was watching out for him. In the days that followed Joe being sent back to prison, she said that he could stay with her to both get him off of Ryan's couch and to make sure that he would truly be okay. He hadn't left since. The case had broken both of them in different ways, but in each other, they found comfort.

She never complained when he woke her up late at night, shaking and terrified of the flashbacks he had in his sleep. He often saw his father, his death replaying in his mind. She just sat up with him, got him some water, and held him, soothing him until they both fell back asleep. It had taken about a week for her to realize that maybe having weapons close to the bed wasn't a smart idea, so every night their guns got locked in a safe, safely out of reach whenever one of them woke up terrified that they weren't alone.

He watched her sleep, resisting the desire he had to brush her hair out of her face as he knew that if he made the slightest movement towards her, she would jolt awake as though he himself had electrocuted her. Instead he just continued to listen carefully, the sound of her deep breathing relaxing him in some strange way. He felt himself finally starting to drift off as he watched her, his eyes starting to close when he heard the hitch in her breathing.

He sat up, already knowing what was about to happen. Max's breaths started coming in short, rapid pants, her body jerking as her hands clawed at the sheets, a low whine escaping her, "Max," Mike said, his voice firm and strong. He reached out, his hand on her upper arm, "Max, you're okay. You're safe…."

Max sat up, her eyes wild as she looked around the room, "I was too late," She said, her breaths continuing to come in pants as she looked around as though she couldn't see. "I was too late. I couldn't stop them. I couldn't save him…."

"Max, you're okay," Mike said, giving her arm a squeeze, trying to calm her. Her skin felt like it was on fire, which worried Mike, considering they always kept the apartment freezing unless it was the middle of the winter. "You're in bed and you're _safe_. So is Ryan."

"Ryan?" Max looked at Mike as though she hadn't seen him sitting there, as if he were a stranger. She shook her head as she continued to stare at him, "Who said anything about Ryan? I know Ryan is safe. I wasn't dreaming about Ryan. I was dreaming about you."

Mike felt a strange mixture of guilt and affection spread through him as he rubbed her arm idly, reminding her that he was there for her. In the back of his mind, he knew that Max hadn't been dreaming about Ryan. It was rare that she worried about her uncle. But there wasn't a day that went by that she didn't worry about him, "Tell me what happened." He hated making her relive the nightmare she had, but they both knew that it was better to get it out than to go to sleep with it on their minds.

"The twins," Max said, her breathing still rapid and causing her voice to take on a slightly higher pitch. Mike tilted his head at her, taking both of her hands in his. He inhaled slowly and deeply, and she mimicked him. It was something they did whenever either of them woke up having trouble catching their breath. She mimicked his breathing for a few deep breaths before clearing her throat and sighing softly, "It was a replay of that day in the mansion, except Luke had hit you so hard that you wouldn't wake up. I tried everything to wake you up, but you were…." Her voice trailed off and she looked at Mike through eyes that held pain that Mike knew she worked hard to conceal every single day. He knew the look well, because he saw a similar one every time he looked in the mirror.

He inhaled slowly once more before wrapping his arms around her, pulling her to him. He felt her body relax against him with a soft sigh, her head going down on his shoulder. Her fingers sought his, linking together with his when she finally found them. Together they sat in the darkness, reminding each other that they weren't truly alone.

They both had nightmares, though hers were less frequent than his, and also more vivid. But when they occurred, it seemed like only they knew how to comfort each other. The physical contact helped more than anything, to calm their raging minds, to quell the fear that they both held in their hearts.


End file.
